Omori hadn’t been dancing - sure, there was that small building in Outerworlds that let you moonwalk, but dancing like this was completely different. So the child stood on the sidelines, still wrapped in toilet paper and making sure none of it had torn too terribly.

Until something caught his attention: a wisp of familiar purple hair, long and free. Dancing with everyone else, yet still in her own way.

Omori had never felt so alienated.

The feeling echoed in his hollow shell. Why? What did it matter? Except for the fact that she was here and he wasn’t beside her.

The monochrome child’s legs moved before he had any coherent thought. For once not moved by another, until he was close enough to reach out, close enough for one of his hands to slip into hers’.